A Mad Man's Love Story
by Helen Young
Summary: A series of oneshots, drabbles, song fics and whatever other random ideas I can conjure up. Joker/Harley Quinn. Some chapters more graphic than others. Open to requests! Please read and review. Love.
1. Missing Insanity

_**A/N: So, this is my first attempt at a Suicide Squad fanfic. I love Joker and Harley and decided to give this a shot. This first chapter's reviews are all going help me decide if I'll post more so please give me some feed back whether it's positive or negative. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy! Love.**_

"Time to pay up, Mistah Jokah." He barely hears her.

He's lying on his bed pants still around his ankles, tie undone and shirt buttons popped open. The woman, a lady of the night he called upon in a moment of desperation, stands now fully dressed. Her arms are crossed against her chest and she taps her foot on the floor impatiently.

"Hey, I gotta go," she says after a pop of the gum she is chewing -rather loudly he notices. "My kid is waitin' at his fathah's." Her thick accent harsh now as she tries to get his attention. The Joker rises slowly, redressing himself he avoids eye contact with her.

"Leave," he demands suddenly in a tone that left no room for opposition. The woman however apparently feels the need to argue.

"Excuse me?" Her voice rises and octave as her arms drop to her sides. "Ya still owe me money!" He glances sideways at her then. Beads of sweat still glistened on her dark skin. Her dark, curly hair sticks out in different directions and her makeup has begun to run away from her eyes. He smirks, knowing he'd given her a run for her money with his endeavors. The smirk however does not last and he walks to his desk across the room. He thought she'd be fun to play with, dark and mysterious, but she wasn't. She wasn't anything like what he desired -no, he desires blonde curls and blue eyes and skin so flawless it begs him to leave marks on it.

"Your services were required to please me. It is a service you have not fulfilled because you see, I'm still rather displeased." The woman scoffs at him.

"Look, Mistah Jokah," another pop of bubblegum, "I don't want none of ya funny business. Just give me what ya owe me." He hears the flick of a knife behind him, but he remains facing the desk.

"No funny business, eh?" he asked, opening the top drawer of the desk and pulling out a handgun. "My dear, you see, I'm all about the funny business." He whips around, firing his gun and hitting her right between the eyes. He smiles and lets out a laugh, but it is an empty laugh -a forced laugh. There were no other cheers, or applause, just silence filling the room. His smile slid from his lips as he fell to his knees. His joke was useless without an audience. And his audience, the only one who mattered, was nowhere to be found. She'd vanished into thin air, it seemed. His partner in crime, his insanity, his queen, his Harley Quinn.

He began pacing his room, stepping over the body on the floor before finally falling backwards into his bed again. Where is she? He can't remember the last time he was this unhappy, this _miserable_.

 _"_ _Aw, come on, Puddin',"_ he can hear her perfectly, as if she were right there purring in his ear. " _Don'tcha wanna rev up your Harley?_ " she giggles. A long lost smile spreads across his face. It is a genuine smile, one that fell the moment he found out she wasn't at Arkham.

He flings himself from his bed, a new found longing to find his queen. He straightens his clothes and place his gun in his waistband before stepping over the woman lying on the bloodstained carpet. He had to find his Harley.


	2. My Chemical Romance

Her mind is reeling with excitement as she stands before him. His eyes are piercing into her soul and her body feels more alive now than she can ever remember. She is drawn to him, with such force she doesn't think she can ever be close enough, but she has to be still. She has to be silent. She listens to his words in that voice, that smooth voice that makes her melt.

"Would you die for me?" he asks slowly, his hands floating around her but never quite touching her.

"Yes," she answers calmly, so sure and certain she almost surprises herself. The Joker speaks again and she can't help but watch his smooth red lips form together as he talks.

"Would you," he hesitates for only a moment, "would you live for me?"

"Yes," she repeats simply, though she wants to say more, she longs to tell him everything, how she'd live, die, kill for him.

Now her time has come, this moment is do or die. This moment seals her fate in his eyes. She steps back and takes her position. Her arms spread out like a bird in flight as she gives him one final look before letting gravity pull her backwards.

The fall lasted an eternity, fear and excitement swelling inside her, mixing into one overwhelming sensation of pure bliss. The Joker stands above her; he watches her descent with a smile across his face. Her lips smile to meet his before she lands.

The hiss of burning skin fills her ears as the pain showers her body. She holds her breath and squeezes her eyes tight, but her paralyzed body keeps her still. Her mind races wildly with memories and thoughts of _him_ , and suddenly everything moved in slow motion. The searing pain has all but vanished and is replaced with a tingling numbness. This is surely death, she thinks, yet somehow this does not scare her- in fact, it thrills her. She has found the one thing in the world that she was missing and it was the Joker.

With a smile, she allows the air to escape out of her lungs and rush in bubbles to the surface. Her mind becomes fuzzy as she begins to slip into eternal darkness. In her last moment of consciousness, she can swear she feels two strong arms wrap around her body.

XXX

The corners of his mouth curve ever so slightly into the tiniest of smiles before she allows herself fall backwards. He watches her fall towards the vat below, her golden blonde hair blowing around her face and he sees those pretty little lips smile up at him before she disappears beneath the surface.

 _Good bye, Harleen._

He turns and begins to walk before he stops. What if she doesn't resurface? What if she dies in there?

 _What does it matter? She's lucky you let her live the first time._

The voices in his head are right. He wasn't suppose to let her live back at Arkham, but something had come over him. He couldn't bare the thought of taking her life, not after she'd helped him escape so selflessly. He takes another couple steps before pausing again. He can't help but feel a pull inside him urging him back to her. He should at least pull her out, then he can leave.

 _This is a new jacket; she isn't worth it._

He tries to fight himself. She is nothing, he doesn't care about her -he can't. He cares about himself and himself alone, but there is an aching in his chest -a craving almost. A craving for _her._

He groans before turning back. His feet move him fast as he sheds his jacket and he flies over the edge. He hits the acid hard, and he can hear the sizzle in his ears but he pays no attention- he has a mission. His hands find her in the darkness, wrapping his arms around her waist he pulls her against his chest and kicks upward. When they emerge he pulls her head above water, but her eyes stay closed. She isn't even breathing.

 _She's dead, you fool! All that work for nothing!_

He puts his lips her hers and breathes life into her, and for a moment he fears it didn't work. Finally she gasps and opens her eyes, looking around frantically before finally settling on his face. This emotion floods over him- relief? - as he kisses her. It was a hard kiss, a passionate kiss and she returns it with full enthusiasm.

When they pull apart he marvels at the sight of her. Skin near perfection, except for a few minor chemical burns on her chest, and her eyes shining and blue. Her hair is the purest shade of blonde he's ever seen, the blue and pink from each of their clothes mixing into the tips and making it even more perfect. He throws his head back and laughs triumphantly, he has succeeded. He's made her part of him and now she could truly be his. She smiles up at him as he kisses her again and his mind buzzes with the mere thought of her.

 _Harley._

 ** _A/N: I hope this wasn't too out of character for our lovely Mr. J. I just had this idea in my head and tried my best to write it out. Let me know what you think! Love._**


	3. First Impressions

This was not a normal day in Arkham Asylum. No, this day was filled with anticipation, nervous glances and whispers around every corner. This was something Dr. Harleen Quinzel had never experienced in her short time there, and it made her stomach twist in knots. She didn't even need to ask her colleagues what the fuss was about because they wasted no time telling her.

 _"_ _He's as insane as they come."_

 _"_ _He's killed more than 500 people-"_

 _"_ _-And those are just the ones we know about!"_

 _"_ _He's killed or seriously injured every doctor who's ever taken him on."_

 _"_ _Don't look him in the eye!"_

 _"_ _The call him The Joker."_

Harleen had heard of him, in news articles and on television. She'd never seen what he looked like, mostly because she never cared to. Any man who could commit the crimes he has didn't deserve the recognition -that's what he does it all for, the recognition. Another famous wannabe who didn't have the talent to make it in showbiz and now parades around causing destruction just to get his name in the newspaper.

They drug him into Arkham in a straitjacket. He had what looked like a muzzle covering his nose and mouth as if he were a rabid dog. Every doctor at Arkham stood on the upper level looking over the railing as he was drug in. He didn't fight the guards, but he didn't cooperate either. He merely hung limply as they carried him, feet dragging across the floor. He stared downward, and many of them wondered if he was even conscious. Harleen, her curiosity taking over, slowly separated from the crowd and walked closer to the stairs as they brought him passed. As if on cue with her movement, The Joker's head snapped in her direction and his eyes locked with hers. They were right when they said don't look him in the eye, because she suddenly felt very naked, very vulnerable under his gaze. She found herself nearly drowning in the blue sea before realizing she'd forgotten to breathe.

As she let go of the trapped air in her lungs she was snapped back to reality and felt the eyes of all the other doctors on her. Joker, now standing and refusing to move as he gazed at her was suddenly shoved forward by one of the guards as the continued to their destination. He stole one last glance at her before he disappeared around the corner.

She tried to go about her daily business as usual after that. The daily routine of drinking two cups of coffee in her coat closet, sorry excuse for an office. She'd look over her patient files again, because you always miss something the first twenty times, then she'd check on each of them. Follow up on therapy sessions, change around some meds, try and pretend their brains weren't unworkable mush. She always got the incurable patients, the ones who were so far gone they couldn't tell you which way was up. She'd been begging to take on harder cases, to actually have a chance to _cure_ someone.

They always said to be careful what you asked for.

XXX

 _Don't forget to breathe, Harleen._

Nervousness and anxiety twist inside her as she prepared for her day. She's hardly touched her first cup of coffee because she's trying to give herself a pep talk in the mirror, but it doesn't help.

"You just had to keep pushing for harder cases, didn't you?" she mumbles to herself. She'd never expected them to give her _him_ though -him being the Joker. The madman of Gotham who has put every one of his doctors in the hospital or the morgue.

 _"_ _You wanted a challenge, Dr. Quinzel,"_ they said.

 _"_ _It'll be great experience for you!"_ they said.

"Great experience if I live to talk about it," she mumbles again. She couldn't turn down the case though, not after all the pushing she'd done. She'd have to take it and do her best to succeed.

Her mind snaps back to his eyes. So pure and blue, and how they bore holes into her soul like no person or thing had ever done before. This was going to be a tough patient indeed.

She quickly pulls her hair up into a tight bun and tugs on her shirt in an effort to look put together and professional -after all, first impressions are everything. She downs the last of her now cold coffee and heads out of her office. The Joker's file is grasped tightly in her hands and she looks over it for what might be the hundredth time as she walks.

The Joker has no registered name, almost like he appeared about of thin air years ago just to cause pain. No dental records or finger prints could match him to an actual resident of Gotham -or anywhere else for that matter. There were numerous reports of arson, robbery, murder, grand theft auto, mass murder, assault with a deadly weapon… The list went on and on. He's been to Arkham twenty-three times, each time he managed to escape in a new way than the last. More often than not it was found he'd bought off someone on the inside to help him escape quietly in the middle of the night, always leaving one or two casualties at the least.

Before she knew it, she was standing outside the door of the maximum security wing. This particular area was home to only the worst of the worst, and she'd only been inside a handful of times, but always to accompany a fellow doctor. She'd never had a patient of her own behind one of these doors She shows her name badge to the first guard, then the second. Finally, she's walking down the hallway, reaching his room.

"He's ready for you, Doctor," one of the guards says, "if you need anything we'll be right outside." She nods and takes a final deep breath before entering the room.

He is sitting at the metal table in front of her. His straitjacket still on, but this time his muzzle mask has been removed. She takes in the full sight of him, careful to avoid meeting his eyes. His hair, an electric green is slicked back, with only a few stray strands falling over his face. The word _Damaged_ is clearly tattooed on his forehead just under his hair line. He has a small cut above his left eye and one on his right cheek which is also swollen. His lips are painted a bright red, and the color is bleeding slightly out the corners. She's suddenly very aware of the fact this man is wearing more makeup than she is.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Joker," she says. He doesn't respond, but simply watches her as she gets closer and places the file on the table in front of her before taking a seat. "How are you feeling?" she tries again. He still doesn't answer, but cocks his head to the side slightly as continues to gaze at her. She avoids his eyes and begins to look through his file.

"Mr. Joker, my name is Doctor Harleen Quinzel and I'll be your primary psychiatrist during your time here at Arkham," she begins, "I would like very much to be able to help you, and I can only do that if-" she's cut off by a sharp laugh. Her eyes snap up to his face as he continues to laugh.

"Help me, Doctor?" he chuckles, "How ya gonna help me? Ya gonna stick me with some needles, huh?" Suddenly his smile vanishes and a form of aggression takes over him as he growls at her. "Ya gonna drug me and pretend it's a cure? Hmm, Doctor? Or ya gonna stick those probes to my head and let the electricity do the dirty work? I can assure you I've been strapped to every table in this joint and I've been given everything you've got so tell me, how ya gonna help me, _Doctor Quinzel_?" He purrs her name before his body relaxes again and he throws his head back in another laugh.

She is speechless for a moment, taken aback by his suddenly outburst. She knows she needs to say something but she can't help but watch his features while he cackles. His eyes squint, but don't fully close, his lips spread across the majority of his face and his cheeks get red in the excitement. She can't help but find him fascinating.

"I can assure you, Mr. Joker," she says when she finally formulates words. "I've never used electroshock therapy on any of my patients. Nor do I agree to over medicating. I don't know what kind of doctors you've had in the past, but I am very different." He observes her for a moment, eyes flowing over every inch of her before giving her a smile. It was not a smile that worried her, or made her stomach twist with anticipation of his next move. No, this smile made her relax a little more and convinced her to meet his ice blue eyes.

"Well I can assure you, I'm not like any of your other patients, _Doctor Harleen Quinzel_ ," he purrs again. "Tell me, do your friends call you Harley?"

"Oh," the question throws her off guard momentarily. "No, I don't really have any friends."

"Well, _Harley_ , you've got one now."


	4. Doctor, Patient Confidentiallity

Dr. Quinzel double checks herself in the mirror for the fifth and final time before heading out the door of her office. She makes sure her bun is tight and neatly pulled back, leaving only a few strands hanging around her face. Her eye liner is in a perfectly pointed wing and her lashes are curled just right. Her lips are painted a vibrant red, just the way he liked them. She pulls her jacket down, showing off just the right amount of cleavage to catch his attention, but not too much to violate dress code. Her skirt falls just above her knees and slowly creeps upward as she walks. She stumbles slightly in the heels she's wearing because she's never worn heels in her life until now.

The closer she gets to his door the more the excitement grows inside of her. She tells herself over and over that she's making a breakthrough with this patient. A few more sessions and she'll have completely removed his shell and he'll be an open book. Just a few more sessions.

She shows her name badge to the security guard at the door and takes a deep breath as he opens the door. Sitting there in front of her is her patient; The Joker. A smile spreads on his face as she approaches him and only grows once the door is closed and secured behind her.

"Afternoon, Mr. J," she greets him.

" _Harleey_ ," he purrs. "always a pleasure." She takes her spot across from him and over looks his face quickly, avoiding making eye contact. He has another cut on his cheek which she figures is from repeatedly hitting his head against the cement wall of his cell.

"How are you today, Mr. J?" she asks, opening the file in front of her to distract her from the oasis that is his eyes.

"I'm a little blue, doctor," he begins. "with a touch of green. Splashed with some red and orange with a few purple poka dots." He cackles.

"And what does that mean?" she sighs.

"I don't know, you're the doctor." She opens her mouth to speak again but is cut off by him. "I'm bored of this game; can't we play another?"

"This isn't a game, Mr. J."

"Oh why so serious, _Harley_?" she looks up at him as her name rolls off his tongue. She's caught by his eyes as he stares at her. "Life is a game, you know."

"Mr. J," she begins but loses her train of thought as he leans over the table towards her.

"Do me a favor, doll," he smiles sweetly at her and her heart is pounding so hard she thinks it might fly out of her chest.

"Yes, Mr. J?"

"Help me out of this jacket, would ya?" he fidgets a little in his seat, pulling against the restraints.

"You know I can't do that."

"I promise I won't bite… hard," he winks at her. Suddenly a light bulb turns on in her head as an idea sparks. She smiles and gets up, moving slowly around the table to him. His eyes are on her, every inch of her, moving from her face to her toes and back again.

"Alright, Mr. J," she begins, "ya wanna play a game?" His eyes widen in excitement.

"Oh, _Harley_ , don't tease."

"Here's the deal, Mr. J," she says confidently as she stands behind him now. There are six buckles on his straitjacket. "I'll ask you a question, and for each one you answer honestly I'll undo one buckle." He chuckles in front of her and she worries for a moment that he will reject the idea.

"Well played, Doctor. Ask away." She hesitates for a moment, mostly because she didn't expect him to comply.

"Why do you kill people?" she asks. It's one of the first questions to pop into her head and honestly it seemed like a reasonable one. Far better than 'why are you so handsome for a mad man?'

"Oh, dollface, you're gonna have to ask better questions than that," he replies. "I'm insane, remember?" He had a point.

"Fine. What do you feel when you kill people?"

"Oh, Doctor. You've forgotten something." She sighs and undoes the bottom buckle of his jacket.

"I feel excitement. Like a junkie on a high or a dog in heat," he says slowly. "I feel…Alive." She's stunned momentarily by his honestly and remains silent. "That answer has got to be worth two buckles," he says.

"That's not the rule, Mr. J," she stands her ground and unclasps the next one.

"Why do you hate the Batman so much?" He giggles.

"Hate him?! Oh no, my dear! He's part of the game. One of the most important parts. I need a challenge. What is a chess game without black and white pieces?" A fair answer. Third buckle undone. She waits, her mind reeling with a thousand questions but she needs to narrow it down to three.

"The clock is ticking, Doctor," he says, "our session won't last forever." He is right, doesn't have time to overthink.

"Why haven't you killed me?" she finally asks.

"Hmm?"

"You've killed or seriously injured every doctor you've ever had. Every time you've been to Arkham you've broken out within the first week. Well we're on week three and I'm still breathing. Why?" She's moved to the side of him now to watch the amusement flash across his face.

"You amuse me, _Doctor,_ " he replies, a devilish grin spreading over him. "The way you try so hard to get me to talk, the way you've started doing your makeup, the shorter your skirts get every day. Yes, I've noticed, Harley. I notice everything," They remain still, neither speaking as they stare at each other.

"Don't forget the buckles, doctor," he speaks barely above a whisper. She lets out the breath she was holding for what seemed like an eternity and moves behind him. She's aware she's flirting with death as she undoes one, two, three buckles. The straitjacket slides from his shoulders as she moves in front of him again.

"Are you gonna kill me, Mr. J?" In a flash he stands, throwing his jacket away from him. He places his hands on the table on either side of her, pinning her between him and it. Their faces are inches apart and she stares anxiously at him. He seems to hesitate; he looks as though he's fighting some internal demons. She doesn't give him anymore time. She leans forward and crushes her lips to his.

He responds instantly with equal force. His hands find her hips and grip them hard enough to leave bruises as she slides slowly back onto the table. One of her hands finds it way around his neck and pulls him into her while the other tangles itself into his bright green hair. He is leaning completely over her now, feet still shackled to the floor and she's completely on top of the table, legs wrapped around his slender waist. One of his hands finds its way under her skirt as the other holds her chest steady against his.

A pounding on the door breaks them apart.

"Ten minutes, Doc!" the security guard shouts. With eyes wide she looks at the clock on the wall. How had two hours flown by so quickly? Suddenly the Joker is off of her, putting as much distance between the two of him as his chains will allow.

"Mr. J…" she doesn't know what to say. She watches him as he grips his hair in his hands and turns away from her. His shoulders move up and down as he steadies out his breathing. She slowly climbs from the table, pulling her skirt down to its proper place.

"No," he says, so quietly she almost doesn't hear him. He smooths out his hair and turns back to her, his usual grin gracing his face once more. "I ain't gonna kill ya, but I need ya to do me a favor."

"What is it, Mr. J?" she asks, her voice shaky. She doesn't even care what he asks her to do. In that moment she realizes she's screwed. She's screwed because she would do anything for this insane man. She was undeniably, irrevocably, _insanely_ in love with him.

"Help me get out of here."

 _ **A/N: Hey everyone. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you think. I was trying to make this almost a continuation off of the previous chapter and I was a little worried about being out of character so I'd appreciate the feedback. Thank you! Love.**_


	5. You Don't Own Me

**_A/N: I am so sorry it took me so long to post another chapter. But I hope you enjoy this one. I took a bit of a different approach so I hope it's still enjoyable. Please read and review! I love all feedback! Thanks!_**

No one was surprised that the Joker was back at Arkham within a couple months after escaping last time, everyone knew it was a game to him. He always needed to top his latest breakout- 'more explosions, a higher death toll!' he'd always say. No this was nothing new, considering business had been slow lately. The boss needed to make sure no one forgot his name, even if just for a day. No, what surprised them all was his newest recruit and favorite play thing, Harley Quinn.

The first couple days of his absence she lounged around in the club, trying to drive the other workers as crazy as she was. By night she'd dance around, playing with the fresh meat that wandered in and dared to buy the queen of Gotham City a drink. By the fifth day she became impatient, grumbling around the club and snapping at the workers. Behind her back they'd whisper about her hormones and maybe she needed to 'get some' and how if the boss didn't have cameras in every room they'd be happy to help her out. Except, no one dared to touch the Joker's girl, or even look at her a second too long. The only one who even had the slightest permission to be alone with her was Joker's right-hand man, Frost, and even he treaded on thin ice.

Finally, by the seventh day, Harley stormed into the club. She threw the door open so hard one of the hinges busted. The entire crew turned to stare at her as she stormed up to them, her eyes burning holes through each of them until she came to a stop right in front of Frost.

"Miss Quinn?" he asked delicately. She crossed her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes.

"So, what the hell is the deal?" she snapped harshly. "We just gonna keep sittin' around here drinkin' gin and tonics, or are we gonna go get Mr. J?" A low chuckle escaped from a few of the henchmen but Harley ignored them and continued her intense glare at Frost.

"He hasn't sent word yet, Miss Quinn," Frost replied calmly, "we never go in until instructed."

"Well what the hell's he waitin' for?" she asked angrily.

"Well, the last time he was in there for three weeks, if you recall, while recruiting you."

"Three weeks?" Harley yelled in reply, "he expects me to sit around for weeks just waitin' for him? I'm bored!" she ended her rant with a small pout.

"Miss Quinn-" Frost began but was interrupted by another voice.

"Relax, lady, maybe he's jus' gettin' himself another play thing." Harley whipped around, her eyes shooting daggers at the man who spoke. At her movement the other men in the room tensed, and she let a huge grin spread across her face. She walked slowly over to the man whom she didn't recognize, swaying her hips ever so slightly back and forth.

"I ain't never seen you around here before," she said in a playful tone. "so what's ya name?"

"They call me Reggie," he said with a grin still on his face. He didn't seem to notice the other henchmen inch away from him as she drew closer.

"Well, _Reggie_ ," she let out a little giggle as she stopped in front of him, "since you're new, there's a couple of things you probably wanna know." Faster than Reggie could react, Harley plunged a knife straight into his stomach. He jerked forward, moving to reach for her but she caught his arm and twisted it, causing him to yell out.

"Bitch!" he choked as blood began to run out of the corner of his mouth. She laughed loudly before twisting the knife and pulling it back out of his stomach, causing him to let out a guttural cry and fall to his knees. Harley let go of his arm and kicked him hard in the chest, causing him to fall backwards and knock a couple of barstools over with him. She walked up to him, placing her foot on his chest, pinning him to the ground with the full weight of her body as she knelt next to him.

"The most important thing ya need to know, is don't mess with me." She winked at him before standing and kicking him hard in the side for good measure. "Pussy," she scoffed before turning on her heels and storming out of the club. She vaguely heard Frost calling for her in the midst of giving orders to move Reggie out of the club before opening, but she ignored him and hurried down the street.

A short time later she stood outside Arkham Asylum, a sense of familiarity washing over her and she pushed back the urge to vomit. She didn't really have a plan, but her best shot was to walk through the front door. She'd stopped at a store on the way from the club and grabbed a black mini skirt as well as a white button up top and a pair of fake glasses. She pulled her hair up into a bun to hide the pink and blue that dyed the ends of it, because the more normal she looked, the easier this would be. She began to walk up the path to the hospital when a voice called out behind her.

"Harleen?" Harley froze. She turned very slowly, casually placing her hand over the gun placed discreetly in the waistband of her skirt. She saw a woman hurrying to her and recognized her instantly as Dr. Jess Harmon, possibly the only person Harley even associated during her employment at Arkham.

"Jess," Harley quickly took her hand off of her revolver as the other doctor got closer.

"How are you?" Jess asked finally reaching her. "No one has heard from you since the attack a 6 weeks ago. We thought you were dead."

"Nope!" Harley said with a smile. "Just busy!" She turned to walk away but Dr. Harmon fell in step with her.

"Are you coming back to work?" Dr. Harmon asked as they neared the building. It was then that Harley realized the flaw in her plan -she didn't have a key card.

"You know what," Harley began, "I was just coming to talk to whoever is in charge now about returning to work. However, I seemed to have lost my name badge somewhere in all the chaos. Would you mind letting me in so I don't have to mess around with visitation?" The other woman looked at her skeptically.

"Well, Dr. Freeman is in charge now," she replied, "and I'm sure he'd be more than happy to talk to you. But I think you should still go through visitation. Security has been tight since that psycho clown managed to sneak in a small army under everyone's nose." Harley felt herself smile before quickly snapping back into character.

"Come on, Jess," Harley said sweetly, placing her hand on the other woman's arm, "you can trust me." Jess met her gaze as Harley gave her a little pout.

"Alright, fine," Jess caved, "but don't tell anyone it was me."

"You have my word." Harley followed closely behind Dr. Harmon as she scanned her ID badge and let them both in the side door, far away from security. Just as they were nearing the main hall an orderly rushed up to them. Harley tensed, but he paid her no attention as he focused on the lady next to her.

"Dr. Harmon, I'm sorry to bother you," he began, "but a couple other doctors are having trouble getting patient 45486 to take his meds. They've requested your assistance."

"Of course, right away," Jess replied. The orderly rushed away as the two women turned to face each other. "I'm sorry, Harleen, I have to handle this. Dr. Freeman's office is just up the stairs to the right. It was great seeing you." As she turned to leave, Harley caught her arm.

"Who is patient 45486?" Dr. Harmon hesitated.

"It's the Joker. He's back here again. None of the other doctors would take him on after what he did, especially since you were missing. I was assigned to be his primary psychiatrist." Both the women stood in silence for a moment, Harley still holding the other doctor's arm tightly.

"Take me to him," Harley demanded. A flash of confusion crossed the other woman's face.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Harleen," she began, "after what he did to you and-" she was cut off when Harley reached into her boot and pulled out a small switchblade and pressed it to her throat. Dr. Harmon's eyes grew wide with terror and Harley tightened her grip on her arm.

"It wasn't a suggestion. _Take me to him_."

Harley followed closely behind Dr. Harmon as they hurried through the halls of the hospital. Keeping a hand over her concealed gun, she eyed everyone who walked by them cautiously. When they finally reached the high security wing of the hospital two guards that Harley didn't recognize stood guard. Dr. Harmon showed her ID badge and pushed through the door, but when Harley began to follow one guard stepped in front of her.

"ID card," he said flatly, eyes wandering up and down her form. Harley scowled and moved to grab her gun when Dr. Harmon shouted out.

"No!" All eyes turned to her and she stammered before finally speaking, "she's with me. I was called to assist with an unruly patient and she's my back up." One of the guards looked between the two women, both their hard gazes burning into him. Finally, he stepped back and Harley quickly moved through the door.

"Quick thinking," Harley complimented with a sideways wink. The other doctor remained focused on the hall in front of her, avoiding eye contact.

"I don't know what the Joker did to you," she finally spoke as they neared the door, "but getting revenge won't make you feel better." Dr. Harmon jumped as Harley's loud laugh echoed through the hall in response.

"Revenge?" Harley laughed again. "Jess, I've come to _release_ him!" The other woman stopped in her tracks and stared at her.

"What? Harleen, you can't! He's insane!" A smile spread across Harley's face as she got closer to her old friend.

"He's just as sane as I am, Jess." Suddenly with a hard shove, Harley through Dr. Harmon backwards into the wall. With a loud thud she hit the floor as a groan escaped her lips. Harley pulled her off the floor and pushed her again to get her moving. "Go. Unlock his room." Dr. Harmon hesitated before walking forward and stopping at a door on her right, swiping her key card. The lock clicked and the women entered.

"Good afternoon, Doctor," a familiar voice growled from the cot across the room. Harley slammed the door behind her as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed to face them. "A little on the angry side today aren't we, Doc-" his eyes grew wide as they looked past Doctor Harmon and fell on Harley.

"Well, what do we have here?" he asked, a wide smile spreading across his face. "A treat for my good behavior?" Harley stepped around the other woman, walking straight up to the mad man and crouching before him.

"Hi, Puddin', did you miss me?"

"Oh, you know I did, baby doll," he growled as she removed the glasses from her face and leaned in to kiss him hard on the lips.

"Harleen, you can't be serious!" Dr. Harmon shouted. "What has he done to you? Has he brainwashed you into thinking-" she was cut off as Harley spun around, her open palm colliding with the doctor's cheek. With a cry she fell to the floor, clutching her stinging cheek.

"Now, Harley, play nice," Joker said from behind her, "you don't wanna break daddy's new toy, do you?" Harley froze in place, watching the woman on the floor scoot away from her.

 _His new toy?_ The voices in her head began screaming at her.

 _That's why he's been at Arkham so long._

 _He found a new play thing. You're just an old, used up toy._

 _He was going to bring her back and kick you to the curb._

Harley shook her head of the voices and with a loud cry she jumped forward, pulling out her blade and plunging it straight into Dr. Harmon's wide, terrified eyes. The woman slumped on the ground before her as she stood back up. Pulling herself back together, she spun back to Joker with a wide smile. He watched her with amusement as she skipped back over to him.

"You wanna play a game, Puddin'?" she asked in a cheerful voice, coming to a stop in front of him as he continued sitting on the bed.

"You know I love playing with you," he growled.

"We'll play your favorite game," she said, placing one hand on either of his shoulders and lowering herself to straddle his waist. "I remember how much you used to love it." His eyes watched her features as she wrapped her arms around his neck and near the top buckle of his straitjacket. "I ask you a question, if you answer honestly, I undo a buckle." He smiled.

"Let's play then, baby doll." She smiled before leaning in and placing light, feathery kisses along his jaw line.

"First question," she said between kisses, "did you miss me?" She felt his pulse quicken as she nibbled lightly on his neck.

"I already told you I did," he replied, "no one amuses me like you do." She undid the top buckle and readjusted her position, grinding her hips against his. He let out a low growl and she felt him begin to harden beneath her.

"Second question," she nibbled on his ear, "did you have fun with Dr. Harmon?" He took a moment to answer, thinking about his response.

"She thought she could fix me," he chuckled. She pulled back to look at him.

"That wasn't an answer," she replied, moving against him again. She watched a flash of desire pass across his face before speaking again. "No buckles for you. Next question," she paused, afraid of asking because she was terrified of the answer, "were you gonna keep her?"

The Joker threw his head back, letting out a loud laugh that echoed in his small cell. She felt herself tense as he continued to laugh, his face unreadable.

"Harley," he spoke finally meeting her eyes, "you're the only girl I need." Her smile spread ear to ear and she beamed, pulling him into a hard kiss. "Now how about helping daddy out of this jacket, hmm?" She climbed from his lap and onto the bed behind him, quickly undoing the straps. He stood, letting the jacket fall to the floor and stretching his arms out. Then suddenly he whipped around, backhanding her across the face. She fell sideways onto the bed and he climbed on top of her, pinning her arms above her head.

"Puddin'?" she gasped, wiggling against him but he was too strong.

"Why are you here?" he snapped at her. Her pulse quickened as she saw the anger in his eyes.

"I-I came to break you out," she stuttered.

"I didn't send word for a break out, did I?" he growled. "How dare you waltz in here to get me? Like I'm some claimed property? You don't own me, Harley Quinn. _I own you_." Harley felt the anger grow inside her as she looked up at him.

"So, you're just gonna come in here and play around with other doctors?" she snapped back at him. "Huh? Just leave me behind like some trash? None of them care about you like I do! None of them can do to you what I can!" The Joker's face softened and he smiled again. Both of them sat there in silence for a minute before Joker let out a low laugh.

"Maybe you're right, Harley," he said in a low voice. Letting go of her wrists with one of his hands, he let it travel down her body and underneath her skirt, pulling her underwear down. "So, why don't you show daddy what you can do?" She gasped as he slipped his fingers inside of her. He kept the pace slow, agonizing; until she finally bucked her hips against him and he let out a low chuckled.

"Mr. J..."

"Say it," he whispered in her ear as she wriggled against his hold on her wrists. "Pretty, pretty, pretty, _pretty-_ "

" _Please_ ," she breathed. Letting go of her arms he grabbed the front of her blouse and ripped it open. He began placing hot kisses across her chest and torso as her hands reached to pull down his pants. Within seconds she was clawing at his back as they moved together in perfect sync, his teeth leaving marks across her bare chest as she moaned. He reached up and grasped her throat with one strong hand and she smiled as he began to squeeze. She could feel the tightness in her stomach as she neared unconsciousness, and she could see in his eyes he was almost there too.

Together they finished with loud moans as his grip loosened on her neck and she felt life rush back into her. He collapsed on the bed next to her, both panting for air with huge smiles on their faces. Harley turned on her side to face him, kissing a trail from his ear down his chest, savoring his salty skin.

"Well, baby doll," he finally spoke, "I guess you came here to break me out. Wouldn't want you to leave empty handed." She smiled and kissed him again before standing. She pulled whatever hair was left in the bun out, letting it cascade down her shoulders. She pulled her skirt back in place, leaving her discarded underwear on the floor. Since the buttons on her shirt had popped off she decided to just tie the ends under her breasts, leaving her stomach exposed. Joker pulled his bottoms back on, but left his shirt where it fell between the bed and the wall as he approached her.

"Let's go, baby."


End file.
